Empty Cradles
by WitchGirl
Summary: Riley goes AWOL at a crime scene, Greg tracks her down to find out why.


Empty Cradles

**Summary:** When Riley goes AWOL at a crime scene, Greg tracks her down to find out why.

**Author's Note:** I haven't proofed this, and no beta, so... apologies but it's late and I'm tired.

* * *

"I'm not saying that at all," Riley protested as she closed the trunk of the SUV. "All I'm saying is two words—Jersey Devils."

"Nuh uh," Greg said with a grin. "No way the Devils could beat the Sharks. Not with the team this season." He held out his hand expectantly and she looked at it blankly.

"What?"

He nodded at her kit. "Let me take that."

She chewed on her lip and eyed him suspiciously. "Please, with those skinny arms? Better I do the heavy lifting."

Greg gaped at her as she walked haughtily past him towards the house and he caught up. "Why the Devils?" he asked. "You're not from Jersey."

"They're top of their division," Riley replied.

"Their _division_, maybe," Greg said, rolling his eyes. "But the Sharks have two wins on them. If you really want to root for a winner, move down to San Jose."

She laughed and he watched as her hair bounced on her shoulders, smiling. But his smile faded as he saw the somber look on Brass's face as he approached. Riley's laughter was swallowed by the night.

"Hey guys, this is gonna be a tough sight," Brass warned them with a sigh. He threw his thumb over his shoulder. "You'll find the body in the back room, right off of the parents' room."

"Parents?" Greg said. "It's a kid?"

Brass closed his eyes sadly. "It's a baby."

Riley blanched, but said nothing. Greg's eyes fell on a furious fight happening just beyond the crime scene tape. An enraged man was being restrained by three officers as he struggled to get at a remarkably stiff looking woman, who had her back to him. Her eyes were cold as a fourth officer took her statement.

"The dad seems to think that the mom smothered the kid," Brass said, following Greg's gaze. "We're… sorting through that. No sign of forced entry, and David's in there determining COD…"

"Open and shut," Riley said suddenly. "So why do we have to be here?"

Greg was struck by the briskness of her tone. "Riley…"

"This shouldn't take long," Brass said. "The crime scene's contained to the baby's room. Just go in there and…" He forced a smile. Every time Brass smiled in these situations, it always looked out of place on the detective's leathery face, but it did show that he tried. "Do what you do best."

"Thanks, Brass," Greg said as they walked up the stairs onto the porch. Greg opened the door for Riley and she floated in like a ghost. He drew level with her in the hallway. He reached out, his hands closing around the handle of her kit, and she meekly let go, not saying a word.

Greg opened his mouth, about to ask what was wrong, but closed it again, deciding against it.

They came to the nursery. The walls were painted blue, with white clouds, some of which were shaped to look like dragons and race cars. A mobile of airplanes circled around the body like vultures. Greg held his breath as his eyes fell on the very still form of a tiny human being, tinged slightly blue.

"Hey."

Greg was startled by the greeting. He hadn't even noticed David Phillips. "Hey," he returned simply. "What have you got?"

"Seems to be asphyxiation," David said. "TOD about an hour ago."

"Just an hour…" Riley whispered, her voice sounding tiny.

David paused as he looked at her. "Yeah. Fits with the 911 call." He cast Greg a nervous look. "I'll leave this to you guys." He began to exit. When he passed Greg, he muttered, "She OK?"

Greg just closed his eyes and nodded. "See you, David."

The door clicked shut and they were alone. Riley was blinking at the corpse, her eyes glazed over.

Greg mustered the courage to ask the same question as David. But when he did, it's like she hadn't heard him.

"Riley?" he said, and she stirred, as if from a dream.

"Hm?"

"I can handle this by myself, if you want," he said slowly.

But she smiled and shook her head. "Nope. No, it's fine. I, uh, just need some air. I'll be right back, OK? Go ahead and start without me."

Greg nodded. "Kay…" he almost whispered. He watched her retreat from the room like a jackrabbit, then returned to the small corpse nestled so snugly under blue blankets. In his five years or so as a CSI, he had only handled a few children's deaths, and even fewer under the age of three. Though he had learned to distance himself from other cases, he didn't think he could ever get used to seeing a dead child. He empathized with Riley. So he tried to be strong for her. Maybe it would even impress her, but he shook that from his head. He reminded himself that a baby was dead. He shouldn't have been thinking about impressing Riley.

He started with the body, deciding to get the hardest part out of the way first. Blue fibers on the lips seemed to support the father's accusations. Greg's stomach lurched as he thought of a mother capable of killing her child. He pushed it to the back of his mind and continued with his work.

He was packing away the kit when he realized that Riley had never come back. Slightly worried, he closed it and entered the hallway, calling her name.

"Riley?" He walked down towards the bathroom and found nothing. He checked all the rooms in the one-storey house, and found her nowhere. Picking up his pace, he jogged outside where he flagged Brass over.

"What's up?" Brass asked.

"Is this scene secure?" Greg asked, paranoia prickling his skin.

Brass cocked an eyebrow. "Of course it is. Something wrong?"

"I can't find Riley," Greg explained. "She stepped out for a minute, said she'd be right back, and I can't find her, so I'm kind of freaking out a little and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Brass interrupted. "Slow down. Riley left about forty minutes ago."

Greg paused, then heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh God, I thought…"

"Yeah, if you'd just asked me where she was in the first place, I could have told you that," he said.

Greg frowned. "She say where she was going?"

"Said you sent her back to the lab," Brass told him. "But I'm gathering by your reaction that you didn't say that."

"Ya think?" Greg returned. He sighed and shook his head. "So you think she went back to the lab?"

"No," Brass said, a little too quickly. At Greg's confused look, he elaborated. "It's been my experience that people who don't want you to know where they are don't tell you where they're going."

"You think she's hiding from us?" Greg asked, unable to keep an ounce of hurt from leaking into his voice.

Brass shrugged. "I think she's hiding from something."

Greg chewed on his lip. "If Catherine hears she ditched, she's gonna have both our heads."

"Probably," Brass conceded.

"But if I don't get this evidence back to the lab right away, it could break the chain of custody and compromise the case in court."

"That's true," Brass agreed.

"And Riley left for a reason," Greg continued. "So she probably doesn't need me chasing after her right now."

"Most likely," said Brass.

Greg closed his eyes, then opened them again. "I should give her some space, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, you should."

"OK," Greg said, nodding. "Can you give me a ride back to the lab?"

Brass smiled. "You're not going after her?"

"Of course I'm going after her," Greg returned. "But I'm not going to jeopardize the evidence. And I need a car."

Brass laughed. "Sure thing."

* * *

The bell above the diner door chimed and Greg scanned the place until his eyes fell on a young woman in a booth. She was hunched over a cup of coffee with her hand raked back in her hair. Greg approached the table and slid into the booth across from Riley. He didn't say anything. He wanted her to say the first words, so he would know that his presence wasn't unwelcome.

She sighed and brought her hand down so both hands clutched the mug of coffee, her hair falling down like curtains, obscuring her expression. "Sorry I bailed on you."

"You could have told me," Greg said. "I offered to take over."

"I didn't lie," she said. "Or, I didn't think I was lying." She looked up and gave a sad smile. "I really thought I just needed some air."

"We all have cases that gets to us. Babies… that's one of the hardest kind of cases. I mean, it's not like murder is the leading cause of death with that age group. I get it."

"No, you don't," Riley whispered.

Greg hesitated, his mouth half open. "A while ago, I took a case with a kid who had starved to death—"

"No, stop it," she interrupted, slamming her hand on the table and looking up at him. "I don't need your personal wisdom on the subject, OK? I just…" She took a deep breath, than forced a smile. "I just need some time to think, that's all. I'll be OK in an hour or so."

Greg frowned. "Riley, do you know how long you've been gone?"

She seemed confused, then looked at her watch. "Oh… wow. Three hours." She closed her eyes. "Well…" She took a sip of her coffee.

For the first time, Greg realized that this was much deeper than just a bad case. "Riley, what happened to you?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it." She sighed and looked around the restaurant. She raised her hand. "Check, please?"

Greg chewed on his lip, not knowing what to say. He struggled with his words as Riley sipped her coffee and avoided his eyes.

Unable to find the words, he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. This startled her enough to look at him and he wouldn't let her look away. She blinked.

"Talk to me," he pleaded.

She opened her mouth and took a breath before saying, "The Sharks suck."

Greg laughed and the tension dissolved away. "That's not what I meant."

She nodded. "I know. But you can't fight the truth, Valley Boy." She grinned at him. The veins in her eyes stood out and they glistened in the florescent lights. She closed them and took a deep breath as a pair of tears trailed down her cheeks. Greg wanted to reach out and wipe them away with his thumbs, but restrained himself.

She looked down as her face flushed and he heard her swallow her tears. After a moment, she spoke. "Sudden Infant Death Syndrome."

Greg tilted his head down to try and see her eyes. "What?"

She sniffed and looked up suddenly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "You said murder isn't the leading cause of death with babies. You're right. SIDS is."

"I don't understand…" Greg said slowly.

She smiled. "That's what I've been trying to tell you." She pursed her lips, her eyes drifting up to the ceiling. "Four years ago, I got married."

"You're married?" Greg was baffled by the sudden change in topic.

She shook her head. "Not anymore," she whispered. "His name was Max. We had a beautiful little girl…" She trailed off, her eyes glazed over again.

And Greg suddenly understood. "Oh, Riley…"

She shook her head. "No. No, don't 'Oh, Riley' me, Greg. That was a long time ago now. I've moved on, I'm OK with it all. It's just, sometimes… you know, things like this happen. And it's like I'm losing her all over again."

"What was her name?"

"Leah," Riley whispered. "She was nine months old. I was watching her while Max was working the night shift. I fell asleep in a chair beside her cradle and woke up later on my own. I realized how quiet and peaceful Leah was being… no fussing or complaining. She was sometimes a difficult baby. But then I realized that it was the door slamming that had woken me up. Max was home, and Leah had been sleeping fuss-free for ten hours. When I checked on her… she wasn't breathing."

She took another sip of her coffee as the waitress arrived with the check. Riley gave her a grateful nod.

"Max said it was my fault. He lived for that little girl… And it's hard when you're told that your baby's cause of death is unknown. When you don't have answers, you make them up. Max had never taken loss very well. He brooded for weeks, refused to go to work… lost his job. He wouldn't let me touch him… Eventually he drove his car over a cliff. And I moved back into my parents' for a year or so. I couldn't live in that house, with the empty cradle and all those unused children's toys…"

Greg was amazed. "I had no idea…" Riley didn't look old enough to be a widow, let alone old enough to have a dead child. She'd lived decades in only a few years. Greg wondered why he'd never noticed it before.

She shrugged it off, or at least tried to. "Well, thank you. I like it that people have no idea. Why do you think I requested a transfer? I couldn't keep working in that city."

Greg nodded. "Your secret's safe with me," he vowed.

She smiled at him gratefully. Her hands sandwiched his. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that."

"So," Greg said. "You ready to go back to work?"

"You bet," she said, stretching as she slid out of the booth.

Greg headed to the door when Riley caught his arm. He spun around into her and the next thing he knew, her lips had softly embraced his. She pulled away and moved up to his ear.

"Thank you, Greg," she whispered.

Greg felt his whole body turn to mush as he blushed. "Um… yeah, anytime," he managed to mumble.

She flashed him a grin on her way out the door and Greg chased her out.

* * *

**NOTES:** Sudden Infant Death Syndrome is a real and serious problem. It claims the lives of 2,500 infants under the age of one every year. As the name implies, the death is always sudden, and can occur in previously healthy babies. The cause of SIDS is unknown, which makes it terrifying for new parents. The only means of prevention that seems to work is placing infants on their back when putting them to sleep in their cribs. "Face Up to Wake Up" is the slogan. This technique seems to decrease the incidences of SIDS, but there is still no known cause of SIDS.


End file.
